Metal Gear Solid: Technical Error
by jediapprentice6700
Summary: Yes....it IS written by a storyline fanatic. PLEASE R&R.Full summary inside.Rated T, but may go up later. Chpt.5:The ninja arrives!
1. Infiltration

**This is my first fanfic, so don't go too hard on me if it's not good.Oh, and...yes...I AM a storyline fanatic, so if you have a short attention span or like pure action without any buildup or story. Leave now. Metal Gear is not for you.**

**Read...review...pleeeaaaassseeeee...Or I will eat your braaaaiiiiinnnnsssss...**

**Metal Gear Solid Technical Error**

**_Full summary: Just read this chapter and you'll find out. Sucker..._**

Chapter 1: Infiltration

The light flickered as a bright green in the small plane and John knew it was time. His name was Johnny Grant, and he worked for FOXHOUND, a covert military division designed for solo operations involving tactical espionage in the field. John stood and readied his gear: a military vest wired with nanomachines design by Mei Ling, an analyst recruited just before Shadow Moses, a white military shirt, his dog tags that bore only his serial number and rank, a black balaclava that also was complemented by a pair of new "Tech" goggles, also named the Solid Lens, named after legendary figure Solid Snake, who for some reason wasn't his backup, and a pair of dark camouflage pants, designed to fit snugly and to adjust temperature for harsh weather, just as his vest. All of these, except for the tags, were clothing of his choice, him not liking the sneaking suits that he was originally issued.

The light began to stop flickering, and another one under it began to lightly flash as a dim yellow. John attached his hook on the foothold as the cargo bay doors opened slowly. His mission was about to begin. He readied his parachute, a primitive, yet under-the-radar method of infiltration, and made sure his binoculars and lighter were in place, and then he straddled his goggles to get them to adjust. The date flashed by as March 15, 2011, two years after the events at Big Shell that changed the community that we know today. Just after Shadow Moses, every organization, even civilians, had enough information to build and design a new Metal Gear. That had been a huge problem for FOXHOUND. Natasha Romanenko had written a book about the events of that operation entitled _In the Darkness of Shadow Moses_, and the press had attacked Foxhound day and night with accusations of treason and murder of DARPA chief Donald Anderson and ArmsTech president Kenneth Baker. Jim Houseman had shortly thereafter confessed of his involvement in the incident and then proceeded to commit suicide.

Information about Metal Gear had leaked over the internet, presumably the work of fugitive Revolver Ocelot, surviving member of FOXHOUND after Shadow Moses. The government wasn't too happy about this, beefing up Homeland Security and disbanding FOXHOUND. Roy Campbell returned not but a few years before Big Shell and apparently reinstated FOXHOUND. They sent in an agent codenamed Raiden as their agent, who returned to the states, but was never seen since. Campbell's niece, Meryl Silverburgh- the light glowed a healthy red now- had been treated for bullet wounds and planned for the reinstatement of FOXHOUND. She was deemed mentally ill by FOXHOUND specialist Naomi Hunter, but Campbell's authority had prevented her from being committed, seeing as how FOXHOUND was already in service of the military and could not be expanded or up scaled, especially after the young agent had been possessed by Psycho Mantis, Foxhound's psychic expert. She even had a few trauma-induced panic attacks, where she woke up in the night screaming about Shadow Moses, crying out Snake's name in futility.

That was when Natasha had founded Philanthropy, an Anti-Metal Gear Organization who battled this threat under the watchful eye of the President. A member of that organization named Yuri Reach, a Russian agent that was formerly a member of the CIA, was captured by a terrorist organization known as Red Cell, a group of former Criminals, soldiers, and code breakers that defected to Russia and enlisted members of the mafia, many former KGB agents, Russian soldiers, and scientists from around the world that all make up White Cell, the counterpart of Red Cell that carries out the orders. These terrorist groups are named in part after Dead Cell and just changing the first section to fit their only message, transmitted to the white house: "We shall breathe life back into the warriors that are our world's soldiers. Resistance is futile, do not resist."

The group then continued to kidnap key members of the U.S. government and acquire part of Big Boss's remains through still unknown means, as the remains of him still remain safe and sound in a bunker located in a disclosed location unknown to the public and even the highest military officers. There were no alarms triggered and no missing pieces of the remains reported….at this point, it is said that it is a bluff to cover up the missing warheads stolen from a U.S. base in Virginia, left over from the Metal Gear D in Zanzibar Land, along with the body of Frank Jagear, former FOXHOUND operative left in a fatal coma still preserved inside the destruction.

John stepped forward and took a deep breath. His mission was simple. He was to rescue the hostages, destroy Red Cell's base of operations, a military base abandoned by the Soviet Union after Operation Snake Eater, where Big Boss infiltrated the facility and defeated the Cobra Unit and Colonel Volgin's faction, and his final objective was to retrieve the remains of Big Boss and any Data he could find on their research. Scans of the area revealed another fortress; one built after Snake Eater by the mob and used as a base for their black market ops, was revealed to be used by Red Cell and added onto by White Cell. John was skydiving in mid-winter, but the snow normally encountered wasn't for many miles, jungle shielded by the evergreen effect of radiation from the destruction of Sokolov's research facility keeping it warm. The facility where the hostages were kept was supposedly in the old mob base, renamed Army's Heaven, after the dream that Commander Gene (codename: Viper) from the Cold War unit FOX, of which FOXHOUND was based, in which there was a world in which warriors like Big Boss would always have a place. Big Boss then created Outer Heaven with the same vision.

John tipped over the edge gradually, and then let the wind throw him into the air. It was exhilarating, that fall. John almost enjoyed it, but he was on duty. No time for cheap thrills. He pulled the metal cord on his pack and the chute deployed, flaring him for a second and violently yanking him into a sideways position. John began to control his descent and let out a sigh of relief, the balaclava allowing him to breathe through the mask. It was designed like mesh, but the holes were so small you couldn't tell. John breathed in his first whiff of fresh air and readied for a landing, his slightly stocky build tensed to absorb the shock of the impact. John held his breath, but his feet touched down safely.

John detached his parachute and left the biodegradable cloth as the nanomachines wired inside the cloth ate way at it, dissolving it in an instant, wiping away any trace of his presence. He set his black pack on the ground and removed the cord and parachute rings and then threw it across his back, ready for storage if he needed it. John brought his finger up and tapped the receiver in his ear as the little bones stimulated a beeping noise in his brain, so only he could hear it and he could talk without even saying a word. His mind would switch over and his body would basically remain on auto-pilot, reacting as he would to his surroundings, his mind working as his body, transmitting to the other side and making expressions and replaying videos and pictures using stimulants in your brain that connected to your retinas, as if he had stepped into a virtual world filled with new, undiscovered technology.

"This is Falcon, do you read?" he asked, using his codename to refer to himself. "I read you loud and clear, Falcon." Replied Col. Roy Campbell over on the other side, his wrinkles and aging face clear over on the other side. John blinked as his goggles began to display the frequency number on screen as well as in his mind, then he reported in, "The infiltration was a success. Reporting for duty."

**Ooooohhhhh...classic metal gear infiltration...Well...you'll have to wait until chapter two folks. (For those who care. # )**


	2. Backup

Chapter 2: Backup

The submarine flowed gently through the water as Ulysses Porter, under orders from Natasha Romanenko for their escapade into Russian waters, began to calculate the prime drop point for their package.

Their radio beeped on and a voice heavy with a Russian accent informed them of their illegal deeds. Ulysses gave his radio a crocked smile and took a swig of his beer. He replied in his own Russian accent, "Yes, Ve shall leave immediately." Ulysses updated the coordinates and his crew prepped the cargo. It was a large aerodynamic vessel, only big enough to hold a seven foot man and his equipment. Their cargo was only 6' 4", and he only bore a high frequency blade built by Philanthropy's best engineers.

The launch point was ahead, and an American man counted down to launch as a couple of gruff sailors loaded the cargo into the chute. "5……4……3…." It was a proud day for their organization, the first launch of the equipment since Solid Snake in 2005…. "2..." Ulysses pasted on his patriotic grin, although the Motherland would have frowned upon his conversion to the Americans, he was already on a great and world changing mission….. "1."

The pod launched from the ship with a silent sonic boom that ruined the moment because of stealth technology. If Ulysses was in charge, he would have made sure that his magnificent launch had been loud enough to wake the dead.

The radio clicked on…another channel was trying to patch through. Ulysses turned it on and a familiar voice told him, "Turn on the codec so the others can't listen in." Ulysses gave his men the what-a-nutjob look and slid into the bathroom with a masculine strode in his step.

BEEP! BEEP!

Ulysses: Zyes?

Otacon: What are you doing!?!

Ulysses: Insurance, my dear friend.

Otacon: Look, we were instructed to send Sampson, no one else.

Ulysses: Natasha ordered for us to zend your back-up.

Otacon: We don't NEED backup.

Ulysses: Sorry, zose are my orders.

Otacon: Philanthropy has a conduct much like FOXHOUND, solo operations ONLY!

Ulysses: Look, we are only sending him to collect their research data. Let Sampson do the rest.

Otacon: I'm not so sure….

Ulysses: Don't vorry, comrade, we have zings under control.

Otacon: Fine. But if there is one thing out of place-

Ulysses: I assure you…….there is nozing to vorry about.

Beedlybeep!

Otacon let his hand drop from his ear and looked at Derek Sampson, the only one sitting in the cabin of the Sikorsky S-67 Blackhawk military helicopter. "Good luck out there," he said cheerfully. Solid Snake….THE Solid Snake…….was piloting the helicopter. He didn't say much, but when Derek had begun ranting about him being honored to meet a legend, Snake began an emotional rant about "There are no heroes on the battlefield," or "I'm no legend. Just an old killer hired to do some more work." Derek had almost been creeped out about it, but he was more curious about why a thirty-nine year old man would be having nearly gray hair. Otacon explained it as extreme cell degeneration due to the cloning process, but Derek was prepping his Desert Eagle for the mission. "I thought this was a procure-on-site op." he had said. "no, actually. The rules of FOXHOUND aren't always the best choice for us," Otacon had replied. The ocean roared by in silently lapping waves below as he began to strap on his diving gear…..

"We'll be referring to you as Desert Eagle for this mission." Otacon said. "Your backup, apparently, is named Cyber Shadow." Derek came him a look of confusion, but Otacon pushed him out just in time for Derek to grab his box of matches. The water cascaded around him and he began the long voyage to the Russian Coast.

**Sooooo….chapter two people. New characters, old characters. What do you think? Well, I've got to go. **


	3. Perimeter

**DUN-DUN-Duunnnn…first confrontation…..major rewriting. Hope you like it.**

Chapter 3: the perimeter

Derek crawled his way onto shore and collapsed. That swim was tiring. How did they do that in Foxhound? He pulled off his mask and breathed in some fresh air. "Ahhhhh……" he dragged. He stood and surveyed the area. There was a field of beautiful red flowers ahead of them and he picked one out. It immediately turned white. "What?" He looked around and found nothing of much use. He drew his Desert Eagle and swept the field. Every flower he touched turned to a white….then died. He was getting freaked out by now, as you could gather. There was a corpse resting in the ground somewhere inside the field, and he nearly threw up at the sight. "God…" he said quietly, picking up a knife from the corpse's rotting uniform. It was a woman…..

A guard turned the corner. Derek immediately sprang into action, attacking the guard with his knife, jabbing up, preferring that the CQC method was too tough for him. They had him down within seconds. Derek scraped at the ground as the guard lifted him gradually with his machine gun dug into Derek's neck. "How is that possible…I had the perfect-" Derek griped. "Shut up and move" he said in an American tone. The guard was clothed in a uniform much like the Sneaking suits developed by FOX….Big Boss had worn it during the events of 1970 when Big Boss and Major Zero were framed for instigating some sort of revolt…..he wasn't very sure. Now wasn't the time. Derek spun and ducked under the incoming machine gun fire and snatched up the gun, the guard nailing him in the gut a few times with his fist before throwing him back to the ground and training his machine gun on him. "Don't move or I swear to God I'll blow your brains all over he jungle," He retorted to the man's attempted escape. But Derek had just what he had needed…..

The machine gun fire missed as Derek turned to roll away, firing the Desert Eagle round into the guard, who stumbled, and finally collapsed. Derek breathed a sigh of relief and stood. "That was too loud," he mumbled, stunned from the soldier's apparently perfect performance. He hid the body in the shallow end of the lake that led into the sea. There were guards coming…he hid behind a tree and began to reload his pistol, switching over to his CODEC.

Derek: Otacon! Did you see that!?!

Otacon: I'm afraid so….what do you think he was trained with?

Snake: I don't know. In fact…I haven't seen a fighting style like that since…..

Derek: Since?

Snake: Since…..Outer Heaven….Zanzibar Land…..

Otacon: Fox?

Snake: No…….my father.

Derek: Your father?

Snake: I gotta go.

Otacon: I'll see what I can get out of Snake. In the meantime, watch your back.

Derek: Gotcha.

Beedlybeep!

"Everyone's too professional," He groaned. The guards returned to their original positions and Derek cut into the open, pulling off his oxygen tank and laying it by the dead guard in the water. "Time to go." He mouthed to himself in an attempt to will himself on mentally.

Meanwhile….. 

John slipped through the forest with ease. There wasn't much to combat him in the jungles of Russia. Eventually, he had come to an old rope bridge. It took him forever to cross, and probably wasted valued time. Ahead of him, a helicopter rose into the air…probably Russian. John noticed a guard ahead.

BEEP! BEEP!

John: This is Falcon.

Roy: I read you.

John: I see enemy personnel. Advice?

Roy: Try to stay hidden. Avoid contact at all cost.

John: Yes sir. Over and out.

**Well…..I guess its John's turn to face the men. Will his sneaking skills aid him in slipping past the guards, or will he get the same treatment as Derek, the Desert Eagle? Find out in the next chapter of Metal Gear: Technical Error!**

**God, I sound like a Television announcer.**


	4. Welcome to the Jungle

**GUESS WHO'S BACK! Yep, after an extended break due to…uh….writer's block….I'm back to write this fanfic, for the only two people who wanted to read it, thank you. (Arsenal Gear and Edgeofyoursoul) And also, before you ask, this chapter was supposed to be mildly humorous.**

**Well, I guess it's time to get moving!**

Chapter 4**(finally): **Welcome to the Jungle **(We've got fun and games! Hehe. Sorry. Moving on….)**

**Seriously:**

Chapter 4: Welcome to the Jungle

John took only a few steps when he triggered the guards honed detection senses. "What was that!" he exclaimed. "American…..hmm…." John pondered as he lay still in the slightly moving grass. He had landed near a cliff, maybe he could try and scale down….if he only had a newer map of this place. John used his goggles to replay the map. Yes, this was definitely the entry point, and yes, there had always been a cliff there. This was where big boss had landed years ago during the Virtuous mission. What was it called? Dremuchij…..John checked his compass. Dremuchij South! What now? He was being stalked by a fine-tuned killing machine and if he didn't find a way out of here soon, he was a dead man. The guard surveyed the area, and John decided maybe he was going to need a distraction. Maybe a cardboard box-

BEEP! BEEP!

Roy: Falcon, this is Campbell, what is your status?

John: Hang on….I'll call you back…."

Beedlybeep!

John released the receiver and reached for the nearest thing he could use. He needed some sort of weapon, something he could either attack with or at least distract the guard long enough to get away. Maybe there was a large rock or a poisonous snake, or even some sort of discarded equipment left by an inept patrol. It didn't matter what he grabbed, as long as it was something useful and practical, something that was going to breathe new life into his tactical mission and hone his stealth skills to the maximum level…

Instead he got a stick.

Yes. A stick. John stared at it for a moment. This was stupid. Who would throw a stick? Why even think about doing something like that. Then suddenly and inadvertently, John wished he had a cardboard box. Seriously…..who throws a stick?

Oh well….. John casually tossed the stick into a tree, which the guard instantly checked for the source of the noise. John used this opportunity to slide under the nearest log. It was perched upon another log and provided perfect cover. John slid around the sizeable tree and disappeared into the forest beyond…….

Meanwhile….

The capsule crashed onto the land with little noise, but slamming into newly grown trees wasn't planned. There was plenty of noise. Enough to nearly break glass. The shockwave spread across the grass and directly into an enemy camp. The soldiers nearly fell off of their chairs. Each was a reserve troop. They were just backup. And here, that was rarely needed, even when intruders showed up. The guards were identical to big boss in every way. Well, all except for their faces…… Anyways, they had a job to do, and now was their time to shine. Brett Sasaki put down his guitar and grabbed his gun. They were heading into a fight, and he knew it. The men dashed for the source of the wave when Brett had to stop. "Brett?" Bob, another guard asked as the others rushed past. "I….I'll catch up with you guys." Bob smirked as the words came out of Brett's mouth. "You know, I think you and that brother of yours were fed laxative baby food," he joked. Brett groaned and rushed back to camp, making sure to grab his toilet paper on the way…

Later…

Bob led the troops to the clearing. They were near a cliff, but nuclear testing had cleared part of it and created a clearing large enough for a full-sized parking garage. Bob and his men took up flanking positions and aimed at the small capsule beyond. It was a large, 8 foot tall cylinder, painted with camouflage and equipped with sensory and tracker equipment. Bob inched closer, but stepped back, noticing the Philanthropy logo on the fuselage, letting out a sigh of utter relief. They had gotten here in time. There was no way the intruder could escape now. A low hiss erupted from the cylindrical transport as an insulated steam rushed out of the inner chamber. Bob held his fire, making sure he didn't alert the intruder to their position.

Too late….

A mechanical voice rose from the steam like an icicle, cold and sharp. "Hello gents," it whispered, "I do believe that you have those machine guns aimed a little far off course…." Bob stared in horror, not daring to take his eyes off of the revealing capsule, the door slicing open like a knife piercing the skin. "W-what?" he said. The voice echoed in his ears…. "I'm right….." Bob let out a horrified gasp of terror as the voice drew closer, and the capsule's steam flooded out. The capsule. Nobody was in it….

"HERE!"


	5. The Ninja

**First real intense fight scene, so leave feedback on how I did.**

**PS: start at the and listen to this, if it works, you get a cool cinematic fight scene, if done just right.**

**Search Metal Gear Solid 3 soundtrack: main them, go to alvarodduck's video on youtube.**

**chapter 5: The Ninja**

_It was the shock. It was the pure shock that set off Bob. There actually was no pain, just the pure knowledge and disbelief of seeing the blade jammed through your spine….your chest….The chest that had just been a part if you just seconds ago…impaled by a the longest blade you'd ever seen…maybe it was because it was so close to you…..__in__ you….Bob tried to lift his arms, to shoot that thing, but they didn't go that far before the darkness swallows him up, and he left to meet his makers…_

"What the _hell!" _a Reserve commented. Bob was just standing there, and then suddenly, a sword was thrust through him like someone was cutting butter. Bob stood silently, trying to get his arm up, but his perception was off too far….

The Ninja had arrived….

The stealth camo buzzed as it uncovered the form of the ninja, a cyborg endoskeleton covering an inhuman monster……Within the mask, the ninja gave a crooked smile, and the carnage began.

Immediately after the ninja had pierced Bob's flesh with the blade, the dying man's arm swung up slowly, his finger mashing the trigger on his FAMAS, the bullets slamming into the Reserve closest to his right, and then Bob went limp after a slight amount of pressure was applied to his neck. They had the capsule circled, but not him. The ninja drove forward, using Bob's corpse as a shield, then with enough force, shoved Bob sickly off the blade and into the guard across the clearing. He spun, slamming his fist into the neck of the Reserve on his left, swiftly snatching the pistol from his belt and emptying two shots into the guard farther left. _Noises-_ The Ninja slammed his thumb on the safety and quickly using the eject button to slide the clip across the grass, matted with blood, and tripping the third man that was making a run for it, then tossing the emptied rind of a gun at the winded guard in the shallow water, still getting Bob's body off of him. He twitched and crashed back into the river. Four men across from him now, one to both the right and left, and one more laying still on the ground, maybe dead. The men had stopped firing, utterly stunned. The ninja shoved the sword into the neck of the guard to the left, spinning to the back and guarding himself from gunfire, then twisted it, snapping his spinal cord with a sickening _crunch! _Two guards, farthest to the right of the ones across from him…..closer to the woods, stepped back, probably going to run for it…The ninja couldn't allow it, tossing the paralyzed and doomed Reserve to the side and using his mechanical legs to crash forward at an alarming rate, throwing himself at the fearful guard in the middle, vaulting over his head and bringing the sword into his shoulder. The guard to the ninja's immediate right let out a cry of exclamation, and then the two on the left made a run for it. The wounded man snatched a knife from his breast sheathe, swinging back, but the ninja caught it, twisted, retrieved his sword from the man's shoulder- and lopped it off at the wrist. The ninja dropped to catch it, administering a high kick to the charging guard behind to back him away. The ninja calculated the weight of the knife and the hand instantaneously, then tossed it directly, the target set, and the knife slammed into the farthest man's hand. The slower sensed this, and then dashed sideways behind the trees. The ninja dealt with the two guards with his hand-to-hand mastery. _High kick, drop kick, spin, backhand, grab, stab, leave blade, jab, grab blade, knee, slash up- _It was a dance. So perfectly timed and executed, almost none other could have done it that well. The ninja walked to the man in the river, struggling to stand, and then he disemboweled him easily, turning the water a dark red, and then the ninja moved towards the woods, following the able-bodied man, ignoring the one nailed to the tree struggling to get the knife out of his hand for now. The Ninja snapped a branch off of the nearest tree, bark splintering everywhere, and then heaved it like a javelin at the man zigzagging in between the trees. The branch slammed right into the back of his skull, crushing it with tremendous force, and spraying blood all over the ninja's endoskeleton, even from that distance. The ninja returned to the clearing and searched for the heat source of the man nailed to the tree. There was nowhere to run…and nowhere to hide….

Fredrick Harper was a smart man. He was young, strong, and good with the ladies, but nothing had prepared him for this. He had been smart enough to make a break for it, but he hadn't counted on having his hand nailed to a tree by his best friend's knife. "He's dead." He mumbled, trying to yank the knife from its depression, but it was in too tight. It was unbearable torment, but he had to get out of here, he had to warn the others- "Oh god." The Ninja was coming towards him, walking casually, blood splattered across his endoskeleton, and Fred panicked, pulling harder and harder, but it didn't budge. "DAMMIT!" he exploded, pulling out his own knife and barking groans of pain as he willed himself to dismember his own hand. He succeeded, unlucky because that was his shooting hand. Fred reached for his discarded FAMAS-_no time_- he turned and ran towards the river, flowing freely now. He drew his pistol clumsily with his left hand and fired back at the approaching figure, seeing the bullets emit sparks as it harmlessly bounced off of the cyborg. He saw the river and threw off his belt and boots to get ready to swim, but the ninja was ready. Fred stopped as the sword, lancing through the air like a surgical knife and slicing off his left foot at the heel. Fred crumpled to the ground, but continued moving, crawling to the water in futility. The ninja grasped his collar, and Fred sprung around onto his back, emptying the entire clip of his pistol into the ninja's head, to no avail. It clicked on empty, and he let his hand drop to the ground, flipping to his stomach and trying to make a last attempt at crawling into the water. The ninja kicked him onto his back, and the man's hand had finally reached the water, letting go of his gun and letting it drift away and holding some dirt and roots, ready to pull as soon as the ninja was off his guard. "You have a strong will to live" he said mechanically, lowering his blade an inch, using his suit to examine his dog tags, "Fredrick Harper." Fred eased his grip a little. "Just a little more and you would have made it." He reminded him. "Yeah well, I do what I can," Fred spat back sarcastically. "Yes. Well, my friend, I would like to let you live, but you know how it goes. Dead Men Tell No Tales." Fred yanked back towards the river, his chest almost making it, but the ninja slammed the sword directly into his chest, killing him. The water was flooded with a light red, but it's color returned, the river swallowing it up and washing it away, the only blood remaining of Fred's among the rocks and his torso.

Meanwhile…..

John crouched behind the tree just as the guard slid by. He was going to have to find some way around, get up behind him and then dash behind that log as he comes back and- BEEP!BEEP! The noise startled John and made him nearly leap from his hiding place, but he tapped the receiver and took the call.

Roy: Falcon, this is Colonel.

John: Yeah, thanks. Almost got me killed, you know that?

Roy: Sorry, but this can't wait much longer.

John: Fine.

Roy: Okay, we need to take a rundown of everything real quick.

John: I got it already. My objectives are to rescue the hostages and assassinate the leaders of Red Cell.

Roy: The Hearts of War

John: Yeah, then radio for the troops and get the hell out of here.

Roy: exactly.

John: Anything else?

Roy: Yeah, you need to meet your support team before you move on.

John: Support?

Roy: Do you honestly think you could beat an entire base of soldiers empty-handed in the middle of Russia by yourself?

John: Well…….

Roy: FALCON!

John: No! Of course not!

Roy: Good. Shall I go on?

John: Please.

Roy: Meet Naomi Hunter, our head of Medical Staff.

Naomi: Pleasure.

John: So, what exactly do you do?

Naomi: I'm in charge of keeping you healthy and aiding in any scientific obstacles you run into in the field.

John: Alright. That could help later on, I guess.

Roy: Mei Ling, our communications expert.

Mei Ling: I'll save your progress and make sure your nanomachines run smoothly.

John: Save?

Mei Ling: When you save, we will record your progress in your mission and your physical status as well, so we have some sort of record. We informed you in VR….

John: Oh, well I was just too distracted by your beautiful eyes to remember.

Mei Ling: giggles

Roy: there's no time for flirting on a mission.

John: Sorry, sir, but I just couldn't help myself.

Mei Ling: its okay, colonel, he's just joking around.

Roy: Well he damn well better stop, there's lives at stake.

John: Sorry, so anyone else?

Roy: Yes, meet George Kasler.

George: Hello Falcon, I'm George.

John: Your name sounds familiar.

George: I used to work for FOXHOUND. I gave Solid Snake some advice at Zanzibar Land.

John: Speaking of which, why didn't you send Solid Snake on this mission?

Roy: Solid Snake died four years ago when that Tanker went down in Manhattan, he's dead, Falcon.

John: ……

Roy: FALCON!

John: Sir?

Roy: Sorry. I-it's nothing… Anyways, George will provide you with info on weapons and enemy units, should you need it.

John: Thanks.

Roy: Okay, so first make your way to the research facility. It should be just across the Dolinovodno.

John: Got it. On my way.

Beedlybeep!

John stepped out of his cover and dashed away from the guard, careful not to step on anything that would give him away, and then moved silently to the Dolinovodno.

**…….kinda cool…..kinda boring at part 2…….Anyways…..next chapter will feature Derek's support team and another fight scene. It'll be between- ah, almost told you. That'll be my little secret. Anyways, I've got to go get Pyramid Head. Got some problems with the Cerberuses. **


	6. Dolinovodno

**Iiiiiii'vvvveeee been workin' on the stoooorrryyyy. Aaaalllll the live- long daaaaayyyyyyy!!!! SO ENJOY IT! demon**

Chapter 6: Dolinovodno

Johnny Grant inched into the grass easily. He was almost there. Up ahead was a rope bridge, probably repaired and replaced so many times it needed it's own team of workers. John used his goggles to zoom in on the guard ahead on the bridge. He was wearing a sneaking suit from the 70s (**see chapter 3**), a dark balaclava, and a beret. He was carrying a Scorpion sub-machine gun and was armed with numerous grenades and a combat knife. John noted it and switched over to the CODEC.

John: Kasler?

George: Falcon! What do you need?

John: I see a guard up ahead on the rope bridge, but I have to get across.

George: Hm. Well maybe you should talk to Roy about that.

…

Roy: What is it Falcon?

John: I see a guard positioned on the bridge.

Roy: Is there any way around?

John: Unless I can leap this cliff? No.

Roy: Well then take special care not to alert him to your position. Take him out stealthily.

John: Yeah….sure….

Beedlybeep!

John slid down the slope of the hill and ducked behind a tree nearby. He had to time this right……

John dashed from cover as soon as the guard turned his back, taking care to be silent, then he rolled over onto the bridge. John, to avoid detection, slid off of the side and using his well-trained body to hold himself to the thin wooden planks on the side. Gradually, he made his way to the personnel, slipping the CQC knife from the guard boot and ignoring the large combat knife he carried as well. With a swift upward slash, John cut the rope on the side of the bridge, causing the guard to falter, but then John shifted his weight up, and the guard tumbled over. John saw the Scorpion drop down to the lake…..but where was the body? John looked up. There, hanging on the other side of the bridge….was the guard. John slashed with his knife, but the man dodged, slamming his boot into John's abdomen and winding him. John set the knife back on the bridge and hoisted himself up. The guard was also on hi way up, slamming his hand into John's foot and causing him to fall onto the wood. John looked up as the guard stood, charging him with a combat knife. John brought up his feet and stopped him, shoving him down as well. They both scrambled to their feet and assumed fighting positions, holstering their knives. John made a few advancing motions, but never struck until the third, bringing his fist around to the man's head. Too bad. The guard parried easily, punching John in the stomach three times, the bringing his foot to his face and knocking John to the railing. _Can't keep this up much longer…. _John ducked under the next blow and tackled the guard, forcing him to the opposite rail, punching him in the face rapidly. The guard caught him after a dozen punches, a seepage of blood coming from the torn mask, then twisted it, breaking John's wrist, pinning his arm behind his back, and then snapping the elbow with ease. John howled in pain, throwing his other arm back, but missed the ducking guard, only to have his knee smashed in from another strike. John fell to one knee, deflecting a blow to the face but taking another in the gut. The guard used that opportunity to slug him in the face, then pulling the CQC knife from John's hands, stabbing it into his left hip. John cringed, then stood up, only to be punched again in the stomach, then the guard snatched his good arm, flipping him over the railing.

John screamed in terror as he plunged all the way down to the water and rocks below.

Meanwhile…

Derek had gotten some distance between himself and his infiltration point. Now he finds his way through the forest, unbelievably, without seeing any guards. Derek crouched by a tree and called Otacon.

Derek: Otacon?

Otacon: Desert Eagle, what's up?

Derek: I need to check with you, did you get anything out of Snake?

Otacon: No, but I'm working on it.

Derek: Alright….well then, anyone else I should talk to?

Otacon: I'll record some frequencies into your CODEC. Snake and I, Natasha, our weapons specialist, not to mention boss, and Raiden, although he's still recovering from his last mission.

Max: Hey!

Otacon: Oh, sorry. This is Max, and he'll be monitoring the progress at the Pentagon.

Max: It's an honor.

Derek: Um….thanks….I think…

Otacon: I'll save your progress on a separate frequency as well. Give a call if you need to.

Derek: Thanks Otacon.

Snake: Desert Eagle….

Derek: Snake?

Snake: Listen, about earlier….

Derek: its okay…..I understand.

Snake: No, you don't. Big Boss is the most dangerous man on earth, and comparing his fighting to the guard's, I think you're in a heap of trouble.

Derek: Okay…I'll watch my back out here.

Snake: Eagle….I'm serious. A soldier means nothing if he's dead.

Derek: Yeah…..

Beedlybeep!


	7. Riverside

**Well…..I'm back to writing…..for those….few…..who read this story, I may take a couple of breaks now and then…..my real life is seriously screwed up right now. **

**Good news….: I'm getting better at writing!**

**Chapter 7: Riverside**

Pain. All he felt was a tremendous wave of pain washing over him. If he had known better, he would have said it was just the river water seeping into his bloody suit, but he could remember the fall. The fall he had taken because he had encountered something he couldn't beat, and now he was washed up on some godforsaken shore somewhere without a clue as to what he was going to do now.

John Grant managed to slide onto his back, staring at the sky through his cracked Solid Lens. More pain shot through his legs, so John stopped trying to stand. His balaclava was caked with gore. There were pieces of his gums smattered across the inside, and he could taste blood. If he hadn't used the nanomachines to help clot it, he would have bled to death. Pain erupted through his arm, but John managed to force himself to remove the goggles. He dropped them next to a small rock, almost exhausted entirely…BEEP! BEEP! His CODEC was screaming. John grunted slightly before answering.

John: C….C…Colonel…..

Roy: Falcon, just hang on, we'll get you through this. I'm going to put Naomi on…..hang in there, son.

Naomi: Falcon?

John: Naomi…..I can't…….move…..

Naomi: Hang on, I'll see what I can do……Colonel, I'm not much in the field of medicine.

Roy: You're his only chance….

Naomi: Okay….first, you'll need to find the source of the pain.

John: It's……everywhere……

Naomi: Cuts, fractures, burns, things like that.

John: Okay…..

Naomi: Okay, now try and stay calm and follow my instruction exactly and you should be okay….

KSSSHHHHHH!!

John lay back in the comforting grass and panted slightly. He was getting used to the noise the CODEC made, but still would never know when it came on. _"Okay, just relax and we'll get through this nice and easy…" _Naomi was on the other side instructing him. "_Now…. You need to fix that gash on your face…"_ John used his good arm, still sliced up pretty good, but mobile, to pull the stained mask from his face. Under the mask was what was once a handsome face, but he was now beaten and bruised along the face, and his fair brown hair matted down with blood. There was a deep gash running from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose, probably from when his head cracked down upon the rocks and knocked him unconscious, and blood was seeping into his nostrils. John's once fairly tanned skin was now pale as a ghost and his mouth was filled with blood and river water. _"Okay, you need to get the butterfly bandages…..yeah…..that'll need stitches."_ John tried to laugh, but it hurt like hell, so he withdrew. Using his good arm, John reached for the Med-Kit in his pack. There it was. He poured some disinfectant on it to fight infection, and did his best to stitch it together with butterfly bandages. He had lost the thread to his suture kit had been lost in the river, along with John's sedatives. Using a small bandage, John tried to cover the wound on his head, and then, due to a smaller wound on his forehead, only needed a mere fingernail's worth to stop the bleeding on his forehead. His nose couldn't be helped, so he used some copper wire to stitch it up, as the bandages won't stay. _"Uh…Falcon, you sure 'bout that?" _John smiled, and replied, "yeah….It'll be murder when I pull it out, but it's only temporary." John laid his hand to rest. His left arm was broken in three places. The wrist and elbow thanks to the guard, and his shoulder from the fall. He couldn't do much else but to try to replace them to their original position, which worked on the shoulder and wrist, but his elbow had torn quite a few ligaments, and needed to heal, which could take a day or so. Until then, John used his sling to support it.

"Okay…." John knew what he had to do now. Slowly, he moved his right arm towards his left hip…..and he wrapped his fingers around the dagger. It wasn't below John to shriek from pain, so that's what he did as he pulled it out of his hip. Pain began to shoot down his leg and up his spine, but John would recover. He used styptic and disinfectant to help it, but then a gauze wet with alcohol and a bandage sealed the deal. John put some cream and a band-aid on the larger cuts on his arms and legs, but let the bruises and small cuts remain. He placed a band-aid on a rather large cut that was bleeding mildly, but it had somewhat dried and clotted, so he was fine. "Alright," he grunted. John was ready, so he pushed himself up…..

….only to collapse on the ground again and smarting in his leg. "Ahhhh! DAMN!" he exclaimed. _"Leg…"_ "I know!" he shouted in the CODEC. He hoped no guards were near. Not because he could be captured or killed and the mission compromised, but more because they would label him a nut-job screaming to himself. John tried to place his knee in place, and although somewhat wobbly, it went into place. He could run, but he couldn't sprint like this. _"Well….I guess that's it…." _"Thanks, Naomi…. I don't know what I'd do with out you.

KSSSSHHHHH!!

John: hey, Mei Ling…

Mei Ling: yes?

John: I'd like to save now…who knows what might happen after this….

Beedlybeep!

Meanwhile……

Derek vomited in the river. It was an overwhelming stench that had been his ultimatum, but the corpse by the river didn't help. There was a young man laying there, a gaping hole in his chest and his intestines spilled into the grass. Sickeningly, His foot was lying not but a few feet away, and it still stood. His bloodied boots and belt lay nearby. There was blood on the rocks as well, coming in unison from his missing hand and the chest wound. Derek had been up farther, and he had found a few guns, but nothing more.

"Dear god….." Derek was stunned, staring directly at the corpse. It was mutilated by someone. Derek, although curious, hoped he didn't have to find out.

He found some blood on a tree, but nothing more. It was when he found the capsule he wanted out. There were bodies, piled up within it. One was gutted, his organs forming a neat cover to the other soldiers. On top lay a head, a large branch jammed in the skull, and a hand with a knife in it, another removed hand still latched on the handle. Derek was horrified.

BEEP! BEEP!

Derek: Otacon, you need to see this…

Otacon: What? Wha- Oh…my…..god…..

Snake: _Jesus!_

Otacon: Derek, something is wrong. You need to abort now.

Derek: As much as I would like that…..I think I'll stay.

Otacon: What!?

Derek: These men aren't like the patrol, they're normal. Look. Plaid masks. Jungle issue camouflage. And besides, something had to have done this, and I intend to find out what.

Snake: Okay…but watch it.

Derek: hey Otacon?

Otacon: Yeah?

Derek: Do me a favor. Save my progress.

Otacon: Right.

Beedlybeep!

Derek could visibly see some sort of electronic device beneath the corpses. "Oh god…." He was disgusted. Gradually, he willed himself through the corpses and found it. It was nothing more than a radio, but there was a notice on it. It said, Frequency 94.3, do not change, radio chatter restricted to patrols and Headquarters. Derek decided to hold on to it, and since the weapons were disabled and stripped of ammo, all he retrieved was the radio.

If Derek hadn't wanted to be as far away from the makeshift grave as quickly as possible, he might have noticed the large words printed on the side:

Philanthropy 'MICIS' Manned Infantry Covert Infiltration Sub unit 13 model 313 Passenger unit "Cyber Shadow Division"


	8. Hunted

**Well, I guess its chapter 8……**

**Well, I guess its chapter 8…….um…yeah…..kind of reminds me of Rambo.**

**Chapter 8: Hunted**

Brett Sasaki was finally done. The last of it was out and his patrol seemed to call him. "Well, then…." Brett buckled his pants and shuffled off into the woods. The glint of a knife flashed, and the cold metal pressed against his throat. "Don't move…." A gruff voice spoke from behind…."Who-who are you!?" Brett shuddered. "I have no name…." Brett soiled himself and after hearing a brief grunt of satisfaction from his captor, crumpled to the ground, his head throbbing and the darkness taking him.

Meanwhile…

Johnny Grant was in a tree. The guards were moving in. The Big Boss guards. He had thought of calling them Big Boss's sons, but that was taken, so he just decided to calling them the Rooks, after all they were just the strong outer layer, just behind the pawns. They were hiding somewhere in the trees. John cursed himself for not wearing Camouflage and tried to dully hide by rolling in a large puddle of mud (reminding him of his childhood) and hiding in small spaces. He had to find a way out of here quickly.

BEEP! BEEP!

Roy: Falcon, you have to do it.

John: What?

Roy: Those soldiers saw you; they're on Search and Destroy. What's worse is they're encoded not to stop until you are dead.

John: great.

Roy: They have to report the hit before returning to base and they must report in every ten minutes with morse code.

John: How can I use that to my advantage?

Roy: You can't take them head on, you need to find a way to get them without being seen.

George: You seen The Lost World?

John: Huh?

George: It's the second Jurassic Park movie.

John: Yes! What does that do to help me?

George: Pick 'em off one at a time. Don't let them spot you and be sure not to take out the lead until last.

John: That just might work……

Roy: Okay, listen to George. It's a good plan.

John: Alri-wait…….why doesn't he have a codename?

Roy: Well, technically….

John: So I guess the enemy could find him easy after this….

Roy: Well….you see…..

John: I'm hanging up……

Beedlybeep!

John needed a weapon and he needed to find the last guard. _Wait._ John paused and found a small branch on the tree. _Hm….._John lined the ends with copper wire so it made a neat trap, slicing up the next man it came in contact with. There were….6…..

John climbed down gently, silently creeping through the woods, stalking the guards. He had almost no weapons left. There had been a severed hand in the river…..and John had pried the empty gun from its dead fingers, but that didn't serve much purpose here. John DID however have some equipment. Using a vine from a tree and some band-aids, he fashioned a small loop. Okay……

The last guard was somewhat smaller than the others…..scrawnier. He wasn't any less powerful either. Virtually ignored by the others. All but ignored when he slipped out of sight due to the small loop around his feet. Ignored are his muffled protests as his captor held him down. Ignored when the large ring of blood began to form around his back, the knife from his belt protruding from his chest. And ignored when the Radioman reported in.

"No located target yet, sir."

The second was pretty regular. He was a patrol, bearing the scorpion in his hands and that inexperienced-but-trained look in his cloned eyes. John had chosen to use the last victim's knife. "Okay….." his hands were heating up. They weren't just heated. SEARING. He was burning. "GOD!" he yelped before dropping it.

BEEP!BEEP!

John: Colonel, what was that?

George: I'll explain instead.

John: Okay.

George: The patrols in that area, those not on Reserve are equipped with fingerprint scanners. Only the identical guards can use them. You're lucky you got the knife. A gun would have sent 100,000 volts up your arm.

John: …..

George: Well…..I guess that means you won't get any guns…

John: I gathered.

Roy: That gun you got in the river was a Reserve's. You can use it.

John: Thank you!

Beedlybeep!

John found a stick and sharpened the end of it on a rock. It was now a spear. The next guard was going to die quickly. John appeared behind him quietly, almost materializing in thin air. A hand clasped over his mouth, and a spear in his chest. For Big Boss guards, this was relatively easy.

The third guard was more of a Support team. He had a SOCOM and a large riot shield. John was lucky he had wandered off. "CQC" he mumbled. The guard couldn't even react. John slammed the shield into his forehead and disarmed his gun, jamming the clip in his mouth to quiet him and then almost like lightning, he broke his neck.

The fourth was probably their leader. He had a large Pump action shotgun cradled in his arms and an AK-74u strapped to his back. Tough, John resolved, but not impossible. John waited until he was closer, then released the branch he had set up with wire into him. It sped up his heart rate and blood spilled from the piercing wounds, but the guard was stunned and unable to cry out, so he died with John's need to quiet him. John had found a clip to his Reserve weapon on him.

The fifth was the radio man. He was hunched over it, eating his rations. Easy prey. John pressed the gun to his head. With cat-like reflexes, the radioman spun, knocking the gun from John's hand and slamming his palm into John's face, knocking the wire out of his nose and causing him to bleed profusely. John countered with a jab, but the guard managed to get in three more low blows before drawing his own pistol. John leaped into the guards view and knocked the gun from his head, rolling back for his own. He managed to snatch it up and empty two rounds into his target, in the head and groin.

"Damn." The sixth guard was now running towards the woods. John quickly tapped in the code, "Intruder eliminated," then before a reply was returned, dashed off after the final guard.

**Also, I apologize for the fuzziness of the last chapter. Fanfiction won't change the Font type, so it turned out confusing. Anyway, chapter 9 soon.**

**No Rocky...sorry...:)**


	9. Sightings

Another choppy chapter, thanks to Fanfiction

**Another choppy chapter, thanks to Fanfiction. Here's another, hope I fixed the problem.**

Chapter 9: Sightings **(sounds more exciting than it is. Don't worry; it'll play into later chapters)**

John raced through the jungle, still hobbling on his leg, but keeping pace with the fleeing soldier. John loaded the clip into his gun, thumbing off the safety and checking his cracked Solid Lens for nearby patrols. Luckily, he found none. Strange enough, his radar was being interfered with; there was strange chatter from nearby. He listened to the chatter. It was like a whisper. Were they…train stations? John almost decided not to fire, but then on instinct, raised the gun and unloaded a round. It missed the soldier and slammed into the nearest tree. "Damn…." He mumbled. John was losing stamina quickly. He could already see himself in a bloody torture room, the strange hands of unknown men feeling him and probing around, and the sharp pains of his human rights being violated, and the horrible knowledge of death being inevitable, and wishing it would all just end and he could die and that maybe he had a chance and….and….

John pushed away the thought. He had been trained not to crack by FOXHOUND specialists. Not traditionally, but in VR. He hadn't been informed. They had placed him in it in his sleep. He awoke to find his room stormed by armed gunmen, and taken to an unknown location and beaten until he talked. He was graded and retested again, but in different scenarios until he finally learned not to break. It was gruesome, inhumane, but it trained him. He would die before he leaked information…

His train of thought was broken by a bloodcurdling scream. Ahead of him was the soldier, hunched over in pain, his feet dragging. John squinted to see the man, who was dripping blood from a wound on his back. John was astonished. Not by the wound, but by the small glob of blood suspended in mid-air behind the soldier. "What the hell…." John gasped a sound of fascination as the electronic buzz revealed a form and electricity slid around the blade now revealed to be the source of the glob. The form wasn't fully revealed, but Dave knew it wasn't fully human. All he saw was the bright light on the thing's head: glowing a healthy shade of red. "Who the hell are you?" John demanded, aiming the gun at the eye. The eye seemed to give the impression it paused to think, and then John heard a mechanical voice speaking through the mask.

"_**I am neither enemy nor friend**_."

Then the eye and the body left, leaving the man's body behind.

Meanwhile….

The dirty blond-haired man known to some as Desert Eagle hid in the bush. His real name was Derek, but that was completely irrelevant to the mission. All that mattered now was his mission. Derek stared at the airstrip in front of him. There were a few planes, but his interest was of the outdated helicopter on the landing platform nearby. It had been built recently as well, still fresh. There were many helicopters on the waiting platform, but the one he was interested in was still being loaded with supplies. Derek removed his binoculars. There were Big Boss Guards standing at attention, and Reserves loading boxes into the cabin. Derek slowly made his way behind a box and looked closer. The pilot was wearing a gas mask and a body suit, but he couldn't completely make him out.

"ATTEN-TION!!"

The Big Boss guards all formed a neat line, obscuring Derek's view. "Damn" The Reserves stopped loading boxes and saluted from wherever they stood. Derek watched a little longer, enough time to see another man board. Because of the Guards, he couldn't see more than a brown trench coat or jacket. The helicopter revved the engine and the rotors began to turn. The guards boarded the chopper and the Reserves cleared the tarmac. A guard closed the cabin door and the large Hind D helicopter lifted off the ground and rose into the sky.

**Short, but important. I'm no longer wrapped up in my troubles and I will work on the a little more often. Leave feedback, if you read this far. (I doubt it) I will write another new chapter before I leave on my vacation (if you call seeing a bunch of old buildings a vacation.) and then I'll be busy playing MGS4, so I won't be on for a while. I'll be trying to work that into my story.**

**Thanks everyone.**

**10 days until Metal Gear Solid 4!**


	10. Cliffside

Hello everyone

**Hello everyone. Still only 9 days from MGS4 and I'm pumped! Here's the next chapter to Technical Error, so hope you like it.**

**Once again, I accept criticism and compliments, but no flaming. (I realize I have been making a few wording mistakes.) **

**I'm going to work out how many chapters this will be soon.**

Chapter 10: Cliffside

There weren't any keys in the first three jeeps Derek had inspected, but luckily he found some in the fourth. He wasn't very good at hot-wiring cars, and he had no compass at all, so he needed the jeep. Derek found some Reserves garbs in the backseat and a map in the glove compartment. He changed into the apparel and tucked his Desert Eagle away in between the seats.

He cranked up the engine and drove, following the map as accurately as he could. He had found a security pass in his pocket and used it to pass checkpoints on the way. His objective was to rescue the hostages. The closest compound was the great fortress of Groznyj Grad, so that was a good place to start.

He was lucky to find the mountain base. According to a wall map, there were many small outposts stretched along the cliff face, but there was a large tunnel road for vehicles to pass through. It winded up and through the mountain, with few security personnel on the path. Derek finally found the parking structure overlooking the fortress. There wasn't much between him and the fortress now. Derek stuck his head over the side. It was a very steep cliff, and he was dug in somewhere closer to the top, but still within the cliff.

"Hmmmmm…….." Derek surveyed the best POI (Point Of Insertion) and quickly worked out the figures.

There wasn't any spare rope lying around, but Derek found a very sturdy fire hose. Using his knife, he sliced it into strips and tied them together with some wire. Using this as a rappel, Derek scaled the cliff.

If it broke now, he would fall to his death.

Derek was halfway down when he heard the tearing sound. The ripping monstrosity that would spell his doom. Derek turned around carefully, sliding his hook to his back to shift the weight. "Oooookay, Derek. You can do this." He told himself. Derek took a small step down and cursed himself for choosing such flimsy material. Derek heard more material coming apart. Derek decided he had to move fast. Derek bounded down the cliff, running at top speed downwards. The hose followed him, shredding as he moved. Derek heard it give way and tried to brace himself. But it was too late.

"SON OF A- " was all he could get out before his feet slipped out from under him, and he was falling.

Meanwhile….

John favored his leg less and less as he made his way through the brush. He had been following the river for a while now, trying to get to a safe place to hunker down for the night. It was going to be dark soon, and John didn't want to be wounded in the forest at night. Ahead he heard rushing water. That must mean…._waterfall_. John hurried his pace and found the rushing water. It was indeed a waterfall, but a much smaller one. Outside of that waterfall was a Big Boss guard. John silently dipped into the water. He needed to get past the guard undetected. Using a log as cover, John waded towards the waterfall.

To the guard, it looked as if a log washed up on shore, but underneath, a covert agent wriggled himself free and collapsed on the cave floor.

But his work wasn't done. Inside the waterfall was a communication center. A very small one at that. Only a few technicians and Reserves sat within the boundaries. One such reserve spotted the dripping form of John Grant. "Hey!" John didn't waste time.

He quickly swept the cave with his pistol, emptying one or two shots into each man, even the technicians. John didn't feel any guilt about murdering innocents. It was for the good of the mission.

There was a muffled grunt outside and John knew the guard was suspicious.

The Big Boss guard shuffled cautiously into the room, training his gun on the bloody mess before him. He gave a cry of surprise at the death and carnage, but he couldn't utter a second because a fist shot out of the shadows and slammed into his neck. Seconds later, he felt his arm snapping like a twig. Then with that, his attacker, John Grant, flipped him onto his back and leave him doubled over on the cave floor. The guard breathed heavily, straining to see John through his dark balaclava. His dark grey beret issued to all Big Boss guards lay on the floor nearby. He saw a man there, bleeding, and then he saw the barrel of a gun…..

_BLAM!_

John felt no guilt over mercilessly killing the soldier. All he wanted was rest. John Grant stashed the bodies behind some stalagmites and lay on the opposite wall.

Beep! Beep!

Mei Ling: Would you like to save?

John: Please.

Mei Ling: Hey, have you ever heard the saying, _a rolling stone gathers no moss_?

John: No.

Mei Ling: Do you know what it means?

John: Um…when you're in a band like the Rolling Stones, it's uncool to have a moss collection?

Mei Ling: ….

John: …..

Mei Ling: ….

John: ….  
Mei Ling: What?

John: Okay, you got me.

Mei Ling: It is translated as _People always moving, with no roots in one place, avoid responsibilities and cares._

John: So what does that mean?

Mei Ling: It means if you're always moving around, you won't have any responsibilities or cares to worry about.

John: And hopefully I won't get my head blown off.

Mei Ling: Just be careful.

Beedlybeep!

John sat down and thought about the saying. _Well, no time for that_, he thought. Sometimes even soldiers need a break. John sat against the wall and slept.


	11. Groznyj Grad

Hello everyone, only 8 days until MGS4

**Hello everyone, only 8 days until MGS4. I go on vacation tomorrow, and I wish everyone a fair goodbye.**

**Have a good week!**

Chapter 11: Groznyj Grad

Derek snapped his eyes open to the gleam of sundown. Night was about to fall, and Derek was a sitting duck for predators.

He flipped himself over on his stomach and surveyed his wounds. He was relatively unharmed, other than a large bruise on his temple. He would be fine.

Derek pulled out his binoculars and surveyed the fortress walls. He was on a small outcropping near the bottom, which was a good way to see over walls.

His eyes dropped on a group of people outside the barracks. A line of soldiers, a scarred man in a large trench coat, his uniform visible under the open(he was probably the platoon sergeant), and the guy in the Gas Mask, who was now in a trench coat as well. Derek found it comical how everyone of importance was wearing a trench coat.

A man appeared from the shadows. He was graying in his hair and wrinkling in his face. His tan dress outfit was covered in ribbons, medals, and badges. His beret had a symbol on it representing communism, and he had the highest honors pinned to his chest. Why would he be here?

"Weakness….is unproductive, worthless, and unwanted," The General said. His voice was coated with a Russian accent, but not too much that it changed his spoken words. "Any of those, who decide that if the battle is too much for them….they deserve death. Nothing less. But, those who would give their lives for the purpose of the objective, willingly sacrificing themselves to complete the mission for which they are required….they are true heroes to the motherland, even if they are not from Russian soil." The men he spoke to were Big Boss Guards, but not dressed in the outfit. They were well-kept, clean-shaven, and neatly trimmed versions of Big Boss. The General continued his speech, "Mother Russia has lost sight of these ideals. In the 1960s, Russia saw a true warrior grace its jungles. His name in America stood until this day. He is known as The Big Boss. You all have been perfectly modeled after him in his prime, but trained in ways he couldn't possibly imagine…. In Indonesia, the Special Forces are known as _Kopassus_, which mean _Komando Pasukan Khusus. _At least one recruit dies in Basic training. Any injury, no matter how minor, is a sign of weakness, and they will dismiss the weak. They must learn skills such as diving, mountaineering, electronic warfare, foreign languages, and even CQC, his invention. And that's only Basic training. Here, we do things much differently. For a new world order to succeed, our troops must be able to outsmart, outfight, outnumber, and outgun any other fighting force in the world. Weakness is not tolerated. Red Three, please step forward." One of the men known only as Red Three stepped forward. The only thing setting him apart from the other was the Red tag and the 3 on it. "Yesterday, we were having a sparring session. You were given four opponents, and you lost to all of them, even to a Reserve, correct?" R3 was sweating copiously now. "Yes sir," he replied. The General shook his head. "Sad…even five matches; you couldn't win…..Mantis?" Gas Mask Man….Mantis….extended his arm. For a moment nothing happened, then, R3 grunted, fighting off an invisible force, but failing. He was forced to his knees. "Weakness is useless." The General drew a Heckler and Koch P7 and placed the barrel between the soldier's terrified eyes.

Derek watched in a gruesome horror as the soldier fell backwards, his brains splattered across the shoes of his comrades. None of them even flinched. They just saluted and fell back into line, marching back towards their barracks, leaving four to aid the General. The general tucked the gun into his pocket and folded his hands behind his back. He and The Gas mask man both began to walk away, the Sergeant handing the trench coat back to the General, and then proceeding to order the four men to take the body away. He paused for a moment, and then walked away.

This was his chance. He sprinted down the cliff and stood by the only crumbling part of the wall. Derek routed power to the nanomachines and activated the SOP system. It was in it's beta version, and he wasn't supposed to have it, but thanks to Natasha's envy of Snake's reputation, she had Derek installed with the early version. Derek linked up with the Big Boss Guards. According to their data, only the men cloned this week were outfitted with the Sons of the Patriots system. A group was on the firing range. Derek drew his Desert Eagle and aimed it at the crumbling wall.

_Wait for it….._

Derek's shots fired in unison with theirs'. Nobody would suspect a thing. The wall as now almost completely crumbled. Enough for Derek to step through, at least. He made his way inside and hid on the side of the barracks. He peered inside. The men he had seen earlier acted mechanically. They cleaned and polished almost like clockwork. Derek had never seen such efficiency….

_Footsteps _

Derek hid behind a pile of cardboard boxes.

BEEP! BEEP!

Snake: Hey….Desert Eagle….

Derek: Snake?

Snake: The box….

Derek: Huh…..

Snake: Use it as a disguise.

Derek: Um….okay…..

Beedlybeep!

The box…..it seemed to call out to him….. _Wear me….wear me…._

"Ah, what the hell."

And Derek was moving around in a cardboard box.


End file.
